


Sport

by hammer



Series: On Faith [1]
Category: The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Drinking, Drunk Sex, Loss of Control, M/M, Martial Arts, Masturbation, Necromongers, Obedience, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hammer/pseuds/hammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Marshal Riddick gets bored on the way to the Threshold. What do Necromongers do for fun? He gets answers from Vaako.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sport

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the details of Necroism are made up. I hope it makes sense. At some point, Riddick starts calling Vaako “Vaak”. It's a nickname, not a typo, pronounced “vaack”.
> 
> Thanks to Rochester for her encouragements and thoughts.

Vaako had advised Riddick to order the Necromonger Fleet to the Threshold immediately. As Lord Marshal, Riddick is to cross the Threshold and come back as a Holy Half-Dead, so he can lead his people to the glory of Underverse. As a mere breeder, an outsider, at the top of the food chain, Riddick is skating on very thin ice with Necromonger nobility and following tradition would quell disagreements. For now. Fine with him. Riddick needs time to think anyway, and the Threshold is weeks away.

However, Riddick refuses to subject himself to the Purification, to Vaako's great displeasure. Shit, this guy makes Imam seem like a choirboy when it comes to religious faith; Underverse this, Underverse that. In a way, it had played in Riddick's favor. Had Vaako's actions been dictated by greed and ambition rather than religious fervor, like his wife, Riddick is pretty sure he'd be a dead Furyan now. The First of Commanders could have dispatched him easily after he'd ghosted Zhylaw. He'd been weak and wounded then, and Vaako was apparently the strongest warrior in this army of dead freaks. Only Vaako's belief in Necromonger tenets had stayed his ax. Honorable death, or some other nonsense. That made Vaako the only man on board that could remotely be trusted. If you could even call it that.

**

It's only been two days, and already Riddick is bored out of his skull. He's used to always be on the run, fighting to survive, and the easy life doesn't sit well with him. It's been a constant parade of nobles and officials kissing his ass to get in his good graces. He found it funny at first, but now it's just tedious and he wishes he could put bit-gags on all of them. He needs distractions. _Real_ entertainment. What do Necros do for fun, beside dressing fancy and brown-nosing? He calls on Vaako. Who else is he supposed to ask?

Vaako comes into the Throne room, in full armor, his helmet under his arm and kneels obediently. As much as part of Riddick enjoys this, he wishes Vaako would stop. “You requested my presence, lord Marshal?” he asks, eyes on the floor.

“Get up, Vaako. I told you to stop groveling. No need for that. Not from you, anyway.” The others can pander and crawl all they want, but it doesn't look good on Vaako, as it wouldn't look good on Riddick.

The soldier rises and waits.

“Tell me, Vaako, what do you do around here for fun?” Riddick asks, slumped down in his throne, looking the opposite of regal.

“Fun?” Vaako repeats with a frown, as if the concept is completely alien to him.

“Yeah, you know, a good time. Booze? Fighting? Sex? Board games?”

“If you desire these things, I can arrange them for you, my Lord. The Lord Marshal's wishes are law and must be obeyed.”

“I _do_ desire these things,” Riddick says, imitating the Commander's serious tone, “except for board games. Don't need those. First, get me booze.”

Vaako talks to the servant who scurries away after receiving his orders. Riddick curses himself for not just asking for it before. He hadn't seen or smelled any alcohol and had started to suspect Necromongers were abstinent.

The nervous servant returns with a silver bottle and pours a rich ruby red liquid into a goblet wrought with sapphires. He hands it to the Lord Marshal with a bowed head. Riddick snatches it, sniffs the contents. Some kind of wine. He goes for a sip.

“Wait...” Vaako stops him, his long cold fingers touching his Lord's wrist lightly. “May I?” he asks, reaching for the cup. Riddick lets him have it and Vaako drinks from it deeply and waits. “I want to make sure it is safe.”

“Why do you care? Wouldn't it be easier for you if someone offed me?”

“It would be an underhanded way to get the crown, and our faith has no use for such a cowardly leader. Zhylaw was weak for he was filled with fear. You killed him. You are fearless. I do not believe I could best you in combat. Therefore, you may prove to be our greatest leader yet, and I vow to help protect you until you pass the Threshold.”

“And if I don't go through with it?”

“Then I would be forced to reconsider my position. Only a Holy Half-Dead can lead us to Underverse,” Vaako announces coolly, giving the wine back to the Furyan.

“Makes sense,” Riddick says, refusing the goblet and grabbing the bottle from the table to drink a large gulp from it. Yes, definitely wine. And it's really good. He drinks more. Vaako's just standing there.

“Drink,” Riddick orders. Vaako looks at the goblet with apprehension. “Problem?”

“We use alcohol sparingly.”

Riddick raises a questioning eyebrow.

“It can temporary lift the effects of the Purification. Most higher ranked Necromongers abstain, indulging only in great occasions,” Vaako explains.

“I didn't see anyone toasting my victory,” Riddick remarks.

“No. You haven't,” Vaako agrees. “You will when you return from the Threshold.”

“Drink,” Riddick repeats finally, “it's an order.” This time, Vaako drains the goblet. Riddick is curious to see what it'll do to him. Lifting the effects of the Purification? Sounds entertaining.

“Now, who do I need to insult to get into a good brawl?”

“If you'd like to train, you have an armory at your disposal. It is as Lord Zhylaw left it.”

“Do you have one?”

“All Commanders have an armory to practice their combat skills, Lord. However, you possess the greatest collection. It contains the best and most precious weapons from all our conquests.”

“I wanna see yours,” Riddick says, smirking, “then maybe I'll show you mine.” Obviously, the turn of phrase is lost on the warrior, and Riddick chuckles.

“Very well, follow me,” Vaako says evenly. The Furyan's constant mirth mystifies him, but he's trying not to show it on his face.

Before leaving the Throne room, Riddick refills Vaako's cup and orders his servant to bring two more bottles of wine, which he carries with him to the armory. He follows his First of Commanders through dark corridors filled with soldiers bowing and kneeling, until they arrive at Vaako's personal weapon reserve.

It's an impressive display of weapons, and Riddick is all smiles as he looks around, spending extra time examining the knives as he drinks more wine. Finally, he turns to his commander.

“Let's do this, Vaak.”

What happens next surprises him. Vaako turns the lights down, and soon, it's dark enough for Riddick to see without his goggles. He moves them to his forehead. His silvery eyes gleam as he tilts his head quizzically. Why would Vaako give him the advantage? He doesn't have to ask.

“I have my armor, and you do not. I am merely evening the odds,” Vaako explains.

Riddick likes that. Vaako is growing on him in leaps and bounds.

“Your choice of weapon, my Lord,” Vaako announces, his voice steady and cold.

Riddick picks up a simple wooden staff that's obviously been used before, according to the nicks and grooves in it. The blood as been washed from it, but Riddick still catches its faint odor.

Vaako recognizes the item. It's a good, strong weapon that was once owned by the great chief of a small village called Kahimahi. Vaako had killed him honorably. The village had surrendered.

The Furyan wants to start slow and easy. _Foreplay_ , he thinks, as he smirks at Vaako, who's starting to think Riddick's plotting something. All that smirking is making him uncomfortable. He picks up a similar staff, one he received as a wedding gift from Lord Zhylaw. It's a primitive weapon exquisitely carved out of a rare dark wood. Almost a shame to use it to spar. It does not matter.

They face each other, holding their staffs with both hands, circling each other like predators on the hunt. Vaako swings his staff first, Riddick ducks and avoids it.

“Didn't Zhylaw have a wife, or kids, that could inherit his throne?” Riddick's always trying to collect information. He goes for a frontal attack, but Vaako stops it by raising his staff right across it.

“It is not our way. We are a people of many worlds, blood means little. We do not engage in procreation. What would be the point of bringing new life into this world when we believe life is naught but a mistake? Conversion is the only way fit to swell our ranks.”

“Do not 'engage in procreation'? Are you telling me you guys don't have sex?” It wouldn't surprise Riddick if Necros turned out to be the biggest killjoys he's ever met. At least, they like to fight.

“No. It means that sex is merely for pleasure, that all are free to mate as they wish,” Vaako clarifies, before feigning a blow on the left only to hit towards the right. Riddick has to get down on one knee to parry and he smirks up at his opponent, pleased to find him as good a fighter as he thought.

“Even married couples?” Riddick asks as he gets back up.

“Marriages are arranged by the Lord Marshal as he sees fit. He matches the most devout Necromongers as to advance our faith. Marriage is seen as a way to gain status, to become part of the nobility and participate in the decision making process. It is separate from love. Often married parties openly go outside the marriage for sex.”

Not so killjoy after all. “Did Zhylaw have a wife?”

Vaako shakes his head. “Lord Zhylaw had many consorts, all temporary and of no import. He never had a Main Consort. He preferred to rely on his Commanders.”

“Main Consort?”

“A Lord Marshall may choose to keep a consort by his side for a long period of time. Usually such a consort is also an advisor, as well as the one who shares the Lord's bed most nights. They are treated with respect and reverence.”

Riddick steps away and switches his staff for a broad sword. Vaako mimics him.

They lapse into silence as they trade blows for long minutes.

As they go head-to-head, they note how their styles are different. Riddick relies on brute force, cunning and instinct honed by years spent in the slam and on the run. Vaako's movements are precise and refined by years of practicing martial arts in the Necromonger Army.  Riddick is also quick, and well versed in combat, and Vaako is smart and much stronger than the average man. They both already know it will be a draw, unless one of them drops his guard.

“Could I have anyone I want, as my Main Consort, I mean?” Riddick starts again, sword pointing right at the Necromonger.

“Within reason.”

“Such as...”

“Taking the wife of a trusted Commander, as was appointed by a Lord Marshal, would be seen as dishonorable and could have deadly repercussions. In such a case, killing the husband first, in order to keep the wife, would be more suitable,” Vaako rattles on, in a matter of fact tone.

“You keep what you kill...” Riddick whispers.

Vaako nods. “Exactly.”

“What about _your_ wife...?” Riddick asks, his sword flying at Vaako from the left.

Vaako easily parries Riddick's strike.

“My wife?” Vaako's face grows tighter, but he scoffs at the thought.

Their blades slide off each other, and both men take a defensive position as they sidestep in a large circle.

“My wife is anxious to see me promoted to Full-Dead. She always longed to be at the Lord Marshal's side, to be Main Consort. She thinks my best chance has passed. If you want her, take her, without fear of retaliation on my part.”

“Not that attached to her, then?” Riddick asks, clearly amused.

Vaako nods in agreement. “My wife is much like a beautiful scorpion. Beware, or she might poison you while your attention is... elsewhere. I was lucky she decided to poison me only little by little. I have grown quite immune to her charms over time as a result.”

“I guess that explains the cot in the corner there, uh?” Riddick chuckles.

Vaako is no fool, and he's been rooming in his armory rather than spending sleepless nights in his quarters with his murderous wife.

“Wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole. Knew she was trouble the moment I smelled her,” Riddick adds.

It's Vaako's turn to smirk. It's just a slight twist at the corner of his full lips, but Riddick sees it. Vaako attacks, Riddick blocks the blow with a loud clang that echoes through the large room.

“How do I go about getting me some 'company'?” Riddick inquires, as they resume their dance.

“I can provide it for you. What is your type?”

“My type?” Riddick launches an attack. Vaako steps back out of reach and strikes back immediately. Riddick lifts his weapon just in time. Both men grunt as they push against each other, arms and shoulders giving their all. Evenly matched. Finally, they pull back and ready for the next exchange of blows, breathing hard.

“Lord Zhylaw had a predilection for tall, svelte women, and young, feminine men. In both cases, he preferred virgins. We always set some aside for him after each mass conversion,” Vaako says. “Tell me what you want, and I will procure it for you.”

Riddick raises his palm and stops the fight. Both men take a moment to catch their breath. Riddick walks back to the table to get more wine, Vaako follows him

“Skinny chicks and boys? That your type too?” Riddick asks as he takes a sip of wine, then refills the fancy goblet.

“No,” Vaako says simply before drinking. He doesn't elaborate, lets Riddick fill the blanks if he wants to.

“I got plenty of ass in the slam, but a man on the run doesn't get much of it. I've been running for a long time.”

Riddick pauses to survey Vaako, who is unusually pink in the cheeks. From the wine, or the sport? Whatever the reason, the glow of life looks good on him.

“Hell, my type used to be 'alive and willing', but since I'm hanging with you dead freaks, I guess my type downgraded to just 'willing'.” Riddick laughs as he puts back the sword into the rack. Vaako's expression doesn't change. He puts his own sword away and waits for the Lord Marshal to choose the next weapon.

“How about a little hand to hand?” Riddick proposes as he strolls over to the wrestling mats.

Vaako nods, finishes his wine and starts removing his armor. He tries to rebuke Riddick's help -they have servants for this- but Riddick ignores him and unsnaps the back of the main piece for his Commander. Even without his armor, his First's physique is impressive; his shoulders are impossibly wide, his torso is solid and dramatically tapers at the waist, his limbs are long, and strong. Once the sturdy metal parts are all neatly set upon the table, both men get in combat ready position.

Riddick can't wait to lay his hands on Vaako, and he lets out a low growl that gives him away before he lurches forward. The attack is lightning quick, but Vaako catches him, wrapping his arms around the Furyan's shoulders, and he twists, sending his Lord on his back and falling right on top of him with a loud thump. Riddick rolls over immediately, straddling his First of Commanders, pinning down one of his wrists, his forearm pressing dangerously across Vaako's throat. The amusement is plain in the silvery eyes.

“If I had to pick a type, I'd say someone who can keep up with me. Strong, deadly and not afraid of the dark.” Riddick growls. He feels it when Vaako's Adam's apple bobs painfully underneath his arm. He loosens the hold some, Vaako groans in relief.

“A deadly consort would be risky, Lord Riddick, especially for you,” Vaako warns, straining under the hold.

Riddick ignores the remark. He dives into Vaako's neck and _smells_ him. Vaako turns his head to the other side. Riddick can't tell if it's to give him more room, or to look away in disgust, but Vaako smells _good_. The Commander's usually faint smell had become more potent as he drank and fought, as if something inside of him had been set free, as if his animal side had been released.

“I never really know if someone is my type until I smell them...” Riddick rumbles as he presses his nose to Vaako's neck and inhales deeply again, making sure he's heard by his sparring partner.

“...Or taste them,” Riddick adds before licking a stripe along Vaako's neck, from his shoulder to his ear, right across the Purification scars. Vaako's face is still turned away, but this time, Riddick feels him shudder. He replaces his forearm with his hand; a loose yet firm grip that could tighten in the blink of an eye around Vaako's neck.

Riddick licks his lips and smirks. “You taste as good as you smell,” he tells the other man before mouthing the side of his neck with more ardor. It tastes of clean sweat. Salty and _manly_. He brings the captured wrist above his head, stretches himself along Vaako. Riddick can feel the warm body under his, lean and muscular, and completely still. Vaako's not fighting back. He's not participating either. His free arm's resting on the floor limply. He's just laying there, letting Riddick do as he wishes.

Riddick sucks and licks his way to Vaako's jawline, sneaks a peek at his face. He's still looking away from his Lord, eyes fixed on the wall in front of him with a slight frown. Riddick lets go of his throat, slides off to the side, pressing his groin into Vaako's hip. His splayed hand travels down the front of Vaako's too thick tunic. He can feel the chiseled body under the black cloth and he longs to touch bare skin. He reaches the hem of the garment and sneaks his hand under it. The skin is as soft as he'd hoped, he can feel the defined six-pack there and he hums his approval against Vaako's neck.

Oh, Vaako is definitely his type. He knows for sure now. But there's something missing.

Vaako turns his head, their eyes meet, cool hazel on heated glimmering silver.

“I did say 'willing',” Riddick says, with the barest of sighs, and he pushes himself back up, and slinks away from the other man to drink more wine.

Vaako sits up, feeling dazed and warm in the face. He had felt the urge to hold Riddick back, but had failed to act upon it. He suspects the wine is finally getting to him. His heart is still beating fast, partly from exertion, partly from the thrill of having the Lord Marshal come on to him. He _knows_ desire, and what he feels right now is an unexpected amplified version of it. He's not used to feeling it so intensely. It's almost too much to bear. He feels a bit shaky and decides to stay down for a bit. He breathes deeply as he rubs the sore spot on his throat, and keeps his eyes on the Furyan's back.

Riddick knows he could order Vaako to bend over for him, but the idea doesn't get him hard. Despite what many think, he isn't a monster. He has no desire to force himself on the Necromonger. No. He wants Vaako to ask for it, but not out of some blind sense of duty. It's the possibility of witnessing that stony, measured warrior loosing his cool that makes Riddick's blood boil.

The Lord Marshal feels sweat dripping down his back and the latticed leather top he's wearing is becoming uncomfortable. He takes off his goggles and pulls off the stifling garment, revealing his muscled back to Vaako, who stares at the golden expanse of skin rippling as Riddick shifts and drinks up. There are a few scars there, thin pale lines he wishes to touch, and Vaako wonders how each of these happened, suddenly feeling curious about the wanted man's past and wanting to know all his secrets.

Vaako gets up, takes a moment to steady himself. He can't help but stare at the Furyan's back. _Furyan_. Last of his kind. Imbued with a mysterious power. Murderer and convict. Fearless. Exuding raw animal power, even at rest. Zhylaw's killer. A breeder. _His_ Lord Marshal. His?

His pulse quickens as he decides what he's going to do next.

He reaches with one hand and runs his fingertips on the longest scar, the one right below his left shoulder blade. Riddick is slightly startled by the gentle touch on his back. He turns his face and crosses gaze with Vaako, just for a moment, because Vaako's striking hazel eyes go back to staring at the blemish.

“My first day at Butcher Bay. A welcome home present, you could say,” Riddick explains before taking another gulp of delicious wine.

“You are a survivor,” Vaako says in a low voice.

“Yeah, since the day I took my first breath and that asshole Zhylaw left me for dead,” Riddick says bitterly.

Vaako becomes less tentative, and Riddick notices that his fingers are not as cold as before. He stays still and lets the Necromonger touch him, afraid to spook him. He knows he has a way of making people afraid. It's useful when he wants people to stay away from him, but right now...

He feels the palm of Vaako's hand slide down along his spine, until he finds another scar, on his lower back.

“Tangiers,” Riddick says tersely.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” Vaako blurts out, surprised at his own words.

Riddick keeps his back to Vaako, but he turns his face, eyebrows knit in a slight frown. “For what?” he scoffs.

“For refusing your advances. You may mate with me, if you wish,” Vaako offers simply.

“You didn't seem too keen on it a minute ago,” Riddick counters.

“The wine... I was confused. I...” Vaako cannot find the right words, for he doesn't quite understand what's happening to him. It has been years since he's drunk enough to interfere with the Purification. It's also been years since he's touched a man like this. His self-control's hanging by a very thin thread.

“Look, Vaako, you don't have to if you...” Riddick doesn't get to finish his sentence, because Vaako takes a step to move right behind him, closing the gap and pressing the growing bulge of his groin right into the Furyan's ass, his hands slipping to Riddick's sides, holding him loosely.

Riddick feels the warm puffs of the Necromonger's breath coming faster against his neck, and the promising erection resting against his ass. No way _this_ comes from the man's sense of duty, not unless Vaako _really_ gets off on obeying the rules...

Vaako presses his cheek to Riddick's shoulder and closes his eyes as he slides his hands up his flanks, then down his upper body. The Furyan's skin is smooth, his chest's rock solid. Vaako's hands bypass the bumps of the nipples, but stop over the defined abs and trace them with shaky fingers. The curves and angles of the Lord Marshal's body send a surge of admiration and lust through Vaako and he grinds his hardening cock into Riddick, who smirks and groans happily at the sensation.

Vaako presses his lips to Riddick's shoulder then, as keen desire surges through him, he scrapes his teeth on the smooth damp skin.

That does it.

Riddick whirls around and crashes his lips on Vaako's with a needy groan. The Commander almost falls backwards, but Riddick's strong arms are already wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close. Riddick shoves his tongue inside Vaako's mouth, tasting him fully, as he runs a hand through the other man's raven hair. When he reaches the braids, Riddick grasps a fistful of them and pulls back to look at Vaako's face.

Vaako is a bit breathless, his cheeks are flushed and his usually cold eyes are fiery and dark, pupils blown out by arousal. His lips are shiny from the kiss, still open, his pink tongue visible and Riddick wants to suck on it. He does, and Vaako lets him, his arms clasped tightly around Riddick's waist.

Slowly, Riddick guides them to the wrestling mats, keeping their mouths connected, coming apart only to take a quick breath. When they reach the mats, Riddick lets go of Vaako, reaches for the tab of the zipper in front of his tunic, then thinks better of it. He takes a step back, tilts his head.

“I wanna see you. Take it off.”

It takes a couple of seconds for the request to register, but eventually, Vaako reaches for his own zipper and pulls it all the way down. Riddick's hands shoot up at once, parting the cloth and slipping it off his broad shoulders.

Riddick is stunned by what he sees. Vaako's nipples are pierced, each sporting a small simple silver barbell. The Commander notices the strange look on Riddick's face.

“If you do not like them, I can remove them, my Lord,” he offers, unsure if it pleases his Lord.

A man from the Aquilan system Vaako had befriended years ago, had offered to adorn his body with the jewelry, as a way to mark Vaako's first campaign as a trusted Commander. His wife had always hated those things, but he had never volunteered to take them off.

Riddick's lips curl into an evil grin. “No way. You're keeping them.” He goes back to feeling up Vaako's chest, and runs his thumbs over the nipples, making Vaako's breath catch.

Now that the damn high collar is gone, Riddick can see the soldier's graceful neck beckoning to him. He licks the collarbone on one side, then licks across his throat and over his Adam's apple. When he reaches the other side, he sucks a bruise where the neck and shoulder meet, making Vaako moan softly. Riddick likes what he hears, and he presses his erection to Vaako's who grinds back into him eagerly.

Vaako's eyes are closed and his head thrown back when Riddick hooks a leg behind him, causing him to fall backwards, off balance. He gasps in surprise, but Riddick is holding on to him, cushioning his fall and gently laying him into the mats.

“All right, let's try this again...” he purrs.

Riddick licks his way down Vaako's chest, paying extra attention to the pierced nipples as Vaako gets lost in the sensations. He drops kisses around the navel, then along the slight trail of dark hair until he reaches the belted waist of the soldier's pants.

Vaako's a bit uncomfortable about the fact that His Lord Marshal is undressing him. It feels wrong. He should be the one attending to him.

“My Lord. Don't,” Vaako utters, looking down pleadingly at Riddick, who freezes. “I should be the one undressing you,” Vaako mumbles.

“Presuming to tell your Lord Marshal what to do? Tssk.” Riddick mocks him, raising an accusing eyebrow.

“I...uh,” Vaako stammers, his cheeks flushing even more.

“Don't worry, Vaak, you'll get your turn soon enough,” he promises with a low laugh. Vaako is cute when he's all skittish like this...

He makes quick work of the belt and buttons, and doesn't waste any time before dragging the pants down. _Shit_. The boots are in the way. He chuckles at his own blundering haste and takes a moment to unbuckle the heavy combat boots before throwing them out of reach unceremoniously.

When the pants are finally pulled over his ankles, Riddick admires the enticing pale form of the easy prey laid upon the dark mats in front of him. His skin seems to glow in the dimmed light of the armory. His chest rises and falls in quick succession. His black hair, usually flawless, is messy, and his braids are strewn behind him in disarray. The Furyan can see the outline of his erection, long and thick, through the black underwear. Riddick licks his lips before they twist into a wolfish grin. That's where he's headed next.

He mouths the shaft right through the cloth, and Vaako arches into the delicious warmth being applied to the whole length of his hard-on. Sure fingers hook into his tight underwear to peel them off slowly. Riddick lets out a low pitch hum when he finally catches a glimpse of Vaako's naked cock. He shouldn't have been surprised to find a piercing there too, but he is. He's also delighted. Vaako's full of surprises. A small curved barbell decorates the perfectly shaped head of the Necromonger's gorgeous circumcised cock. It leans heavily against the warrior's lean abs, amid a cluster of dark brown hairs. The Furyan removes and discards the unneeded clothing, and crawls forward with a hungry look in his eyes that makes Vaako shiver and his cock twitch.

Riddick leans in and buries his face into Vaako's groin, his cheek pressed to the side of his cock, inhaling his musk. The smell is divine, making him impossibly harder, and he shifts and sticks his tongue out so he can lap a wide stripe right between Vaako's balls.

“Oh god...” Vaako moans loudly. He finds it hard to stay still as the flat of his Lord's tongue slides up his shaft and its tip flicks and teases the metal bead at the top. His hips start to tremble beyond his control when Riddick takes the head into his mouth and sucks lightly. Riddick loves the taste and the vibrations of his moan travel down Vaako's shaft, making him gasp and hiss as his hips jerk more wildly.

His wife used to do this to him, although not as much as he liked, but it never felt this good. It's as if his body's awake for the first time, and he never wants to fall asleep again.

His cock slips deeper into the wet heat of Riddick's mouth, the tongue teasing the underside expertly. It feels amazing and he reaches for Riddick's shaved head, just resting his hands on it, without pushing.

Riddick starts bobbing up and down, slowly taking as much of his cock down his throat and then almost pulling off completely. Vaako's afraid he's going to come too soon, afraid to seem weak in the eyes of the Lord Marshal, who no doubt has the stamina of a hell hound.

“Lord... It is too much... I cannot...” Vaako gasps, feeling helpless.

Riddick lets the cock slip out of his lips with a smacking sound and hovers right above it, so close that Vaako can feel the other man's breath on his cock as he speaks.

“S'okay, Vaak, your senses are in overdrive. Let it all go. For me,” Riddick demands hoarsely.

Vaako swallows and nods. He watches, rapt, as Riddick straightens up and undoes the button of his own pants, opening the flaps and pushing them down just enough to free his own erection. The cock pointing right at him is much like his own, although it looks thicker, and the Furyan is almost completely hairless, save for a light smattering of dark hairs around the base of his member.

Vaako wants to reach out and wrap his hand around it, but Riddick has ideas of his own, and he straddles him and presses his bare cock to his Commander's. Vaako moans and jerks his hips up, desperate to feel Riddick's cock sliding along his own saliva slicked hard-on.

Riddick holds himself up on one arm, his muscles flexing, his other arm dipping between their bodies. He wraps his hand around both erections at once, squeezing them together, just a hair short of hurting.

Riddick wishes he could just fuck his handsome soldier right now. But he hasn't the patience; there's no lube in sight, and he knows that saliva won't help much with a cock like his. Riddick has no intention of hurting his Commander, so this will have to do. For now. There are still weeks before they reach that damn Threshold and Riddick means to have a good time on the way there. He wants to have Vaako again. And again.

He starts moving, stroking both their cocks, and Vaako moans wantonly. He increases the speed of his ministrations, examining Vaako closely as faint splotches of pink creep over his chest, catching the way his lips part to let out small moans, how his eyes roll back in ecstasy now and then.

“Fuck, you look good when you let go, Vaak.” the Lord Marshal comments, and Vaako feels impossibly flattered by the praise, glad to please his Lord.

Vaako reaches back to paw at Riddick's ass, finding a way inside the pants. He squeezes the firm mounds of flesh he finds there as more heat pools inside his belly, threatening to explode any second.

The tip of Riddick's hot tongue teases one of his nipples. Vaako looks down at him, digging his nails into his ass. The surge of pain makes the Furyan growl and bare his teeth. He bites the nipple and strokes their erections mercilessly.

Vaako throws his head back and shudders violently when a blinding orgasm rushes through him, pleasure radiating from his groin into his every limbs, making them tingle with new life. It feels like a revelation, fresh and incredible, like the first high from a potent addictive drug. He cries out as his semen is pulsing out of his cock and landing on his abs and chest. The waves of ecstasy are many and overwhelming, and he moans loudly, wondering vaguely if this is how it feels to pass into the Underverse.

Riddick feels Vaako's cock twitch in his hand and against his own shaft. Seeing his cold little soldier coming apart like this sends him soaring over the edge. He roars and growls like a beast and for a moment, he thinks he'll never touch the ground ever again. Large spurts of his cum join Vaako's on his chest, hot and thick, and he shakes as he squeezes the last drops of his release.

His left arm feels like jelly, he lets himself slump to Vaako's side with a grunt. He sighs contentedly as the afterglow takes a hold of him, like he's floating on a cloud of bliss. They stay silent for long minutes, letting their breath return to normal and just basking in the fleeting feeling of being completely sated.

“I never did get to undress you...” Vaako remarks, half-apologetic, half-disappointed.

“Next time.”

“Soon, I hope.”

“Yeah, me too,” Riddick admits. “Ever seen the Lord Marshal's bed chambers?”

Vaako shakes his head. “No.”

“You will. I'm going to fuck you in that giant bed of mine, and also in your own bed, just to spite your wife. Then I'll fuck you into that little rickety cot there in the corner 'til it breaks. I'm going to bend you over that ridiculously long table in the Dinning Hall, then I'll go balls deep into your sweet ass in the fucking Throne. Sound good?”

“I...Yes, my Lord.” A thrill runs up the Necromonger's spine as he visualizes what Riddick has just crudely described.

“I promise to do all of that, at one condition,” Riddick warns. “No Purification for you until the Threshold.”

Vaako frowns, panic in his eyes. “I couldn't...My faith...”

“Well, it's either that, or I'll make sure you're constantly drunk. You pick.”

Vaako presses his lips into a line, takes a few seconds to think. Obviously, he cannot be drunk all day long. And obeying the Lord Marshal is a big part of his faith. He wants Riddick to do those things to him. He wants to _feel_ it fully, with every single nerve ending awake, when his Lord takes him completely.

“Very well. I shall abstain from being purified, if it pleases you. But only until the Threshold,” he finally agrees.

“Good boy.” Riddick smirks. Vaako smirks back.


End file.
